Character Study
by SpitfireUSN
Summary: A dump for studies of my characters. Currently includes studies for: Jay
1. Character Interaction Jay and Shade(AoN)

_Set between All or Nothing chapters 18 (D.I.V.O.R.C.E) AND 19 (Emergency Redirect)._

Jay sat at the front desk, typing his report from the last physical he'd done. Movement caught his eye, but he didn't look up to acknowledge the Hotel team's FNG. There was a report that needed doing and plenty of other medical staff to take care of him.

The newcomer leant against the counter with a small smirk, "G'day Jay-jay, what's new?"

"Not much… Mount Everest of paperwork, 's about it," Jay shrugged, he only paused a moment to look at the operator, "What is it?"

"Just here to see Milne, got another check up on my war wounds from Mexico, y'know? She was a little concerned about muscle scar tissue..." Shade looked to either side of him, and leant in conspiratorially, "I think it's just an excuse for the doc to get her hands on me, heh…"

Jay rolled his eyes, "Uh-huh… Well given Hotel's reputation it probably will not be the last. Hopefully. But probably not." He looked back at his screen and made a few more notes before closing the file and submitting it.

"Heh, yeah, knowing our luck, that's probably true. I'm sure you hear enough of it from bloody Chemmy, right?" Shade said with a chuckle, shifting his weight on the bench.

"Him and personal experience," Jay muttered, "Milne's waiting for you," he pointed behind him, "Third door."

Shade frowned a little, put off by how un-engaged Jay was with his little banter, but shrugged it off internally as he started his way down the hall. "Cheers Jay-Jay. If anyone is looking for me, I'm on a date with the doc… if it's Dash, say that I'm seeing a man about a dog…"

Jay rolled his eyes once more, he'd seen the man was incredibly… _social,_ but all the chat, put him off. It distracted him from things that needed doing and there were a _shit ton_ of things that needed doing. Like he'd said, Mount Everest of paperwork. And he was apparently the only one free enough to climb it. Not that he considered being stuck behind a desk very 'free'.

* * *

Shade grimaced as he wiped off the goopy ultrasound fluid from the back of his thigh, pausing a little to study the small nine millimeter circular scar that was underneath. A souvenir from his brief time in Mexico, he supposed. Just another addition to the many he'd sustained in his career.

"So, how's it lookin' Doc?" He asked, internally yelling 'Oh baby a triple' after throwing the balled-up paper towel into the bin successfully.

"All in all, nothing to be concerned about. Your little run around the Monaco coastline hasn't done anything to stress that muscle group further, and whatever scarring that is there will fade more with time. Just be a little more mindful when exercising that particular region," Second Lieutenant Milne said as she peeled off her gloves, "lest we be seeing you back here."

"Copy that," Shade nodded in understanding, picking up his pants and re-dressing himself, "Hey, I gotta ask you… what's the deal with Jay-Jay out front? Like, I know you medics can be a cold lot, but he's exceptionally frosty. Makes damn Chemo look like a bonfire."

"Jay? He used to be a combat doc 'till he got sidelined. He's always been a little… distant," She answered simply, "Why do you ask?"

Shade sat in thought for a few moments before answering, "Well, there's being distant, and there's being a right prick. Like, take our return from across the border, right? He gave me this hostile vibe when he was looking over Dash and I, me especially…" He shook his head, "I mean, I can understand resentment for being benched and not seeing any action, but I don't think this is just simple resentment… what did he do to get benched, if you don't mind me askin'?"

Milne bit her lip lightly and crossed her arms, "Jay doesn't _resent_ anyone, not that I know of. And he's been benched a while besides that, happened about a year before they brought you in. Took some hits, muscle and nerve damage, has a bit of a limp now but honestly it's nothing that would've benched him. I think it was when Shepherd had a psych rundown on him."

Shade let out a low whistle and winced slightly, "He was facing an 'eight'?" He asked softly, referring to the old 'Section Eight' discharge, generally used for mentally unfit personnel.

She nodded, "Shrink got them to keep him enlisted, only barred from combat. Dunno what was wrong with him, but when he found out he was about to be handed a pink slip he just kinda…" she shrugged and shook her head, "Didn't see him for a week… think he shut down a little there."

He shook his head, "I wouldn't blame him… but that probably didn't help his case either. A little surprised that it wasn't the final 'nail in the coffin', y'know?"

"Yeah, we all were, to be honest I had been starting to think they'd sent him home already," Milne agreed, "Guess whatever shrink he talked to worked some kind of magic or something? I dunno, but he's here, he's skilled, and he doesn't seem to get a lot of sleep, but that's beside the point… I think…"

Shade shrugged and collected his phone from a nearby bench, then started for the door. "Well, as tough of a prick he is, I'll eventually get to him. Even if it kills me," he said as he pulled it open, "bonus points if he does, because then I'll get the kiss of life from you." Shade said, popping his eyebrows in an over-the-top fashion. Milne rolled her eyes.

"From what I've heard, I'd've thought you'd be preferring a certain Texan trooper over a mere medic like me…" She shot back, folding her arms over her chest.

"... I have no idea what you're talking about…" Shade said after a few moments of silence, internally wondering who's body he'd now have to dispose of. The sloppy denial was easily seen through by the medical officer, who just raised an eyebrow at him.

"Yeah, right… now get going, we've both got more important stuff to get to."

* * *

Jay was just sitting back down after a coffee run, taking a sip from the mug before setting it aside to see what was next on his docket when Shade passed by his desk again. His eyes caught Shade as he walked by and he felt.. _something_ , in his stomach or somewhere. Something told him… he wasn't sure what, but it locked his eyes on to the Australian operator.

Instead of walking straight out the doors, Shade rounded to the front of the desk and stopped in front of Jay. "Y'know, you could try not being a wanker for once."

Jay blinked a moment, of all things, of all scenarios running through his head, _that_ had not been one of them, "I'm… sorry? Did I do something? I'm confused..."

Shade sighed, "Look, I know a fellow gunfighter when I see him… them," he corrected, remembering that not _all_ of his team were guys, "and I can tell you were one. And I get that you're still salty over being stuck on the bench and shit, but you gotta lighten the fuck up mate."

Jay sighed, "I wasn't a 'gunfighter', I was a combat medic, emphasis on _was_. Now I'm not. Haven't been for a year now."

"And still will be with that bloody attitude, y'know," Shade pointed out, aiming an index finger at him, "and don't give me that 'combat medic' bullshit. Chemo's one and he can still hit a mozzie's ass at three hundred meters while hanging upside down."

He shook his head " _Still would be_ if not for a nosy ass shrink," Jay sat back with a frown, shoulders tense, "And I'm not Chemo. I'm me. And I came back from ops without having fired a single round. Combat medic. Not a gunfighter."

"To-may-to, to-mah-to," Shade said with a smirk, "The only difference between you and me is that my pack's full of bullets and bombs, yours is blood and band-aids." He sighed and stood upright, "What I'm saying is that if you want to get out there and do what you do best, you gotta fight for it. Don't let some pansy-ass armchair general or some shrink who hasn't seen down the barrel of some asshole's AK dictate how you live your bloody life." He pushed away from the counter and made his way for the door. "I see wasted potential behind that desk mate… but hey, your life, your path to walk."

"You don't think I did everything I could to get back out there?" he asked, voice dejected, Jay shook his head, "I tried, and I got a pink slip shoved in my face, at least here I can still do _something_."

Shade stood there, door halfway open and one foot outside. "I'll ask you something my old squad leader back in the Commandos asked me: you know what they say about rules, Jay?"

"No one ever got famous following them?" Jay shrugged and shook his head, "I tried everything… didn't matter to them, they were just gonna toss me away like a broken tool."

Shade rolled his eyes, "Rules are made to be broken, mate. If I were you, go brush the dust off of your armour, oil up your weapons… I'll be in touch." With that, he stepped outside and left the medic to ponder his words.

Jay leaned back in his chair with a sigh, rubbing his eyes with both hands. What he wouldn't give to get back out there, be with his team again, next to them, keeping them safe. But if the brass found out… He'd be done for sure then, sent 'home'. Jay scoffed at the idea, his home was where the Army sent him. Of course, the brass wouldn't see that, they didn't care to see it. The shrink had. He was lucky to still be enlisted, he couldn't risk it… could he?


	2. Character Interaction Jay and Shade(AE)

_This takes place after the events Another End chapter 17 (Steady)._

Jay sighed as he let his head rest on the pillow, his arms underneath providing a little extra support. The bay was pretty quiet, with him being the only 'patient' there at the time. The air conditioning felt extra cool on his exposed back, the skin a little extra tender after being re-dressed with fresh bandages. The medical officer looking after his treatment had said that his skin was healing slowly, and that the signs of infection were fading.

His thoughts were stolen as the doors to the bay swung open, a pair of medics wheeling in a stretcher bearing a member of one of the Task Force's other teams, one he didn't recognise. The medics parked this newcomer beside him, said a few parting words and left him to his devices. Now unobscured, Jay could see the soldier's left sleeve of his uniform had been cut away, leaving his arm and shoulder exposed, save for the myriad of tape covering the shoulder itself. He had to stop himself from moving to his assistance, moving would not be wise. Jay sighed and buried his face in the pillow for a moment, frustrated with his immobility.

"You 'right mate?" The soldier spoke up, his head turned and looking at Jay.

Jay looked at him boredly, "Been better…" He watched as the soldier's eyes flicked up and down his back before refocusing on Jay himself.

"... no shit Sherlock," the soldier said with a quirked eyebrow, "so you're that bastard that's the talk of the Task Force right now?"

"I wouldn't know, I've been stuck here the past few days wishing I could _move_ ," Jay responded, "What talk?"

"I heard from my old mate Rook who heard from Toad that their team's medic turned himself into a sacrificial lamb on their latest op, that's the talk," he rolled his eyes, subconsciously going to cross his arms over his chest before stopping with a pained wince from his injury and the tightness of the tape around his joint, "most of the blokes are going on about how much of a legend you are for taking one for the team the way you did."

Jay snorted a chuckle and shook his head, "Sacrificial lamb? Really?"

"Would you'd have preferred 'premium grade mince'? I figured that might be a little too soon, given by the sheer size of that patch on your back."

Jay winced at the joke, "Fair point I suppose."

The soldier rolled his eyes, then gave Jay a pointed look, "Nah, the fair point is that I think you're a fucking wanker, that's what."

Jay raised an eyebrow, "Why am I a wanker?"

"To quote some old but wise prick from way back when, 'a problem shared is a problem halved'. Goes the same way with pain and suffering, mate. I'd ask if the Doc's managed to fix up the many 'new ones' that you've been torn by your team, but that's a little too personal for my liking," he said with a small chuckle before frowning. "I get that you're a medic, and you don't like seeing others hurt, but say they had killed you early in your imprisonment. What next? Who'd be alive to patch the others up once the bastards set their sights on them? They sure as hell wouldn't, otherwise they'd not have killed you."

Jay groaned and pressed his face into the pillow again, "Not this again..." He mumbled into it before he lifted his face, "A. I did what I had to do, I trusted the rest of the team to be able to get to us in time for that to not be a problem. B. There wasn't much patching up I could do with no supplies, they were in no hurry to give me my kit to tend to Ozone and Scarecrow. All I could do was trust my team and hold out until they got there, in the meantime, I could save the others some pain. So I did."

"And while you're being all magnanimous and shit, the rest of your team is sitting in a cell, fearing for your life, thinking 'it should be me in there', because you know damn well that all of them would trade places with you in less than a fucking heartbeat," the soldier spat out, "because if there's one bloody thing I know from personal fucking experience, is that you don't leave your brothers behind, and you don't let them hang out to fucking dry. Did you even _think_ and consider that maybe _they wanted_ to share the pain? Do something to make sure you didn't suffer any longer?" He was starting to get louder, his words beginning to echo through the bay, "Or are you so fucking self-centred to think that… that… well, I don't fucking know. If you ask me, you're a fucking moron."

Jay scowled at him and shifted, wincing and grimacing as his back pulled, he settled back into his position, "They have people to go home to. I don't. I was the expendable one and I wasn't gonna sit and do nothing and be _useless_ and _fuck_ I don't…" he sighed and shook his head, "It doesn't matter. It happened. It's over. I'm healing, the others are okay. That's all that matters."

"And now look. Because of all of this, you _are_ useless, you _can't do anything_ , and your team will either fill your slot temporarily or be stood down until you're fit again. And that's not considering the fact that there was jack shit stopping those assholes from executing everyone but you, y'know," the soldier said after a few moments silence. "What if they figured out that your act of attempted self-sacrifice was just for that? Could you live with yourself knowing that your actions lead to their deaths?"

"No…" Jay sighed, "I wouldn't. I'd fuckin… I don't know… but it wouldn't be pretty. But if they had, they'd have lost their leverage, and they knew it. Threatened Scarecrow, they caught on at the end."

"Exactly… and you don't know how much longer it would have taken for the rest of us to find you lot…" he said softly, "And they wouldn't have been able to live with themselves knowing that you gave yourself up like that. Sure, they have families and shit to go home to… but they'd have also lost a brother."

Jay scoffed a chuckle and shook his head, "They hardly know me. I wouldn't think I'd be considered a brother."

"Yet they'd willingly take the punishment if it meant sparing you… I don't know mate, but that's some fucking brothers-in-arms shit right there…" The doors opened and a medic walked in, a chart in his hands.

"Okay, Sergeant Williams, due to your dislocation, we'll be keeping you here for observation for the night, just to make sure there's no further damage to the joint and surrounding nerves. One of the nurses will be in to wheel you to a ward soon."

The soldier, Williams, nodded, "Thanks Doc." He turned to look at Jay. "Give your team some credit, open the fuck up, and don't be such an isolated and pessimistic prick. You'll live longer that way."


	3. Trolley Problem

**_Wrote this up in a quick ten minutes for an example for someone. Think of this as an example of commanding the scene from the background. It's Jay's point of view, but he stays in the background._**

 ** _Thanks for Reading, Fly High Aim Higher_**

 ** _~Spitfire out_**

Jay sat quietly on the little padded bench against the window in the rec room. The conversation of the room buzzing in the back of his head as he watched outside, watched the wind stir up leaves and shook trees, watched a pair birds flit about. He was paying attention to the conversation, but didn't have much to add to it, so he sat comfortably and listened to his friends chat.

"Okay, so that old train riddle, right? One person on one track, fifty on the other, who do you save?" Toad asked with his typical easy smile.

Archer rolled his eyes at his spotter, "It's not like it's that hard to derail the train and save all of them."

"Yeah but for the sake of the question, you can't."

Archer sighed and shook his head. Ozone piped up next, "Well it's easy. I mean the fee for the many right? Lose one person or lose fifty."

Jay could agree with that logic, but really it depended more to him on who the person was. Jay wasn't one to cast judgement on the helpless, but in the situation? It felt like the only option. Both options sucked, either way, someone died. And Jay, ever the medic and ever caring about people he didn't even know, wanted to avoid anyone dying. Because who knew, maybe saving an 'evil' person might make them realize what they've done, or that there is kindness in the world. Jay tuned the conversation out as it delved into a statistics debate. Those always annoyed him. Who cares about statistics, in the moment, right then and there? Statistics didn't matter. Life mattered. Always be kind, his mother had told him, because you never know when you might be the only one.

"Jay, what do you think?"

Jay lifted his head at the sudden attention, "Huh? Oh… I'd let the people cast their own judgment." Jay sighed at the confused looks and turned to face them more squarely, "Say you have time to question them, and the fifty people are mass murderers who won't change their ways if they live, and the one person is this close to a cure for cancer. What then? Saving the fifty people means hundreds more die. Saving the one person means millions live."

"And if you don't have time to figure all that out?"

"Save them all."

"You can't. There's no way!"

"There's always a way!" Jay argued, "That's what we do isn't it? Find a way? There is always a way."


End file.
